


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by imel



Category: Real Person Fiction, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Growing Up Together, Lucid Dreaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imel/pseuds/imel
Summary: He’d been in your dreams almost your whole life, but was it real?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And now for something a little different...

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” your mother said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you drifted off on that fateful night.

When you regained awareness, you found yourself in a large nondescript white room with no windows or doors. The only thing in the room was a large four-poster bed with white bedding.

You knew unquestionably that you were dreaming, but that didn’t seem particularly odd, even though it hadn’t happened before.

You approached the bed and almost bumped into a curly-haired boy wearing Spiderman pajamas.

“‘Ello, I’m Tom!” he greeted you with an infectious grin.

“Why do you have a funny voice?” you asked.

“You have a funny voice, too,” he said.

You told him your name. “Are you dreaming, too?”

“I am! Do you want to jump on the bed?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, climbing up onto the grown-up sized bed with him.

You jumped, bounced, rolled, and tumbled, giggling away all the while, with no one to tell you not to.

When you woke up, you were eager to tell your mother about your new friend.


	2. Chapter 2

After the first time, you returned to what you and Tom both came to refer to as The White Room regularly. It wasn’t every night, but it was most nights.

You were both young enough that you didn’t question it much. It was just another part of your life, and you were happy to have a constant friend to play with.

There were never any toys in The White Room, but there were plenty of other ways to play. 

Tom liked playing pretend and telling you stories about his life in London and his family.

He showed you what he learned in dance and gymnastics classes. You weren’t as successful at dance and gymnastics as he was, no matter how hard he tried to teach you.

You shared your days with each other, and woke up wondering how he was if you didn’t visit The White Room in your sleep.

The grown ups you told didn’t think much of it at first, that you had an imaginary friend, even though you were pretty sure it wasn’t imaginary.

When dismissal turned to concern about being a little too old to have imaginary friends you so firmly insisted were real, you stopped mentioning The White Room and Tom.

“Tom?” you asked one night, sitting on the floor next to the bed.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Have you ever told anybody else about The White Room?”

“I did, but nobody believed me,” he replied.

“Nobody believed me either,” you said. “I had to stop talking about it because people were starting to think I’m weird.”

“Well, you are weird,” he teased. “I have my final audition for Billy Elliot tomorrow. I’m a little nervous.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great!” you reassured him. “You’re really good at dancing.”

He smiled at you. “We should practice pirouettes again!”

You hopped up and started spinning around The White Room with him, trying desperately not to fall, giggling the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom did get the part in Billy Elliot.

You were very excited for him, even though it meant you saw him less. 

Your revelation that time zones were the problem solved that issue almost immediately. You just tweaked your sleep schedule to include a nap in the evening when he would be asleep before he had to get up early. 

Your family didn’t question your naps as long as you did well in school and got your chores done, which you were sure to do.

Things went well for a long time, but then puberty snuck up on you. In addition to the less than pleasant physical changes you were going through, Tom’s status as your best friend soon became best friend and first crush.

Your mind was often filled with fantasies of kissing Tom and having romantic secret rendezvous in The White Room with him.

You weren’t sure how to bring it up, though. You thought up scenario after scenario of what to say or do, but none of it felt right.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, one day.

“Anything,” you replied, even though you weren’t sure who you were going to tell. His whole life was an ocean away.

“I think I’m in love,” he eventually admitted.

“You are?” 

You thought it was going to be the confession you were waiting for, that Tom was in love with you, and then you’d share your first kiss with him. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

That was why you were blindsided when he responded shyly, “Yeah, with Megan.”

He’d mentioned Megan before in passing, another actress in Billy Elliot.

“We got dared to, and I kissed her.”

You felt sick to your stomach, but forced yourself to ask, “was it good?”

“It was magical,” he replied, smiling at the memory.

“Do you think she’s going to be your girlfriend now?” you continued because you were apparently a glutton for punishment.

“I don’t think she likes me like that.” He looked a little sad.

You felt guilty about how much that relieved you.

You thought about confessing that you were in love with him and definitely did like him like that, but couldn’t bring yourself to in case things did work out for him with Megan. He was your best friend before anything more than that. You wanted him to be happy.

Things didn’t end up working out with Megan, but that was only the beginning.


	4. Chapter 4

You survived Tom’s first girlfriend. Seeing him light up over her was enough to calm your jealousy. More than anything else, you really did want him to be happy. Things didn’t end up working out long-term with her, but he took the break up well, better than you would have.

You were hung up enough on Tom that you chose not to date anyone, not that you told him the real reason. He thought you just hadn’t met the right person yet, not that the right person was actually him. It wouldn’t be fair to expect someone else to be a consolation prize. You had The White Room, and that was enough.

You didn’t, couldn’t have, foreseen the hell in a handbasket that your life was going to turn to the summer before your senior year of high school.

No one was home or due back soon. You decided to have some private time to yourself without having to be silent.

Your mind drifted where it always did at these times -- Tom. 

He’d recently turned up shirtless in The White Room because he forgot to put one on before bed, and you always appeared in The White Room in what you fell asleep wearing. 

No shirt and low slung athletic pants was a very good look on him, even if he’d been a bit embarrassed.

Your climax was suddenly interrupted by your bedroom door swinging open. It was your mother, and she did not look pleased.

You quickly covered yourself and wanted the Earth to swallow you whole.

“Who’s Tom?” she asked.

You didn’t have a reasonable answer, since explaining The White Room would probably end in a visit to a psychiatrist. “No one,” you replied quietly.

“You’ve been hiding a boyfriend from us, haven’t you?”

“No, I promise I’m not,” you responded, tears starting to well up in your eyes.

“Then, tell me who Tom is,” she insisted.

“He’s just a guy I know,” you eventually said.

“I don’t want you around this Tom. You’re not going to end up pregnant while you’re still in high school like your cousin did.”

“I won’t,” you promised. You didn’t think you could get pregnant in The White Room regardless, but that was beside the point.

Your 16 year old cousin and her unplanned pregnancy had been a touchy subject for the past several months.

“You definitely won’t, not on my watch.”

And that was how you ended up enrolled in an all-girls boarding academy for your senior year of high school, far away from everyone and everything you’d known since you started school.

You barely slept that night, sick to your stomach over it, and didn’t end up in The White Room for a couple days. By that point, you desperately missed Tom.

When you finally returned to The White Room, he immediately noticed that you weren’t okay. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“I have to go to an all-girls boarding school next year,” you replied, glumly.

“What happened?” He reached out his arms to you, and you let him hug you tightly.

“My pregnant cousin happened,” you said against his chest before letting yourself cry.

“That’s such bullshit,” he said into your hair. “You’ve never even dated anyone.”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed.

You chose to leave out the catalyst, since that would involve admitting your feelings for him. You weren’t ready to deal with that yet, not in The White Room at least. Not until you knew for sure that it was real.

You’d entertained the idea of taking things from The White Room to the waking world, but there was the ocean separating you, and that you were still technically a minor, at least for the next couple months, to contend with. Not to mention you weren’t sure if Tom would want the same.

He guided you to the bed, holding you while you lay down together. His fingers ran through your hair. It was familiar and soothing. “I know it’s probably not that comforting right now, but I’ll still be here. No one can take that away.”

“It is comforting. At least one thing isn’t going to change,” you told him.

“And maybe it won’t be so bad. You could make some new friends,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I was thinking about homecoming and the senior class trip a few days ago, and now it’s going to fucking Georgia against my will for the next year of my life.”

“Why Georgia?” he asked.

You shrugged against him. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I do have some news to share that might cheer you up,” he said.

“I could definitely use that cheering up.”

“I was cast as the next Spiderman!”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Seriously? That’s amazing! No one deserves it more than you do.”

“Thanks. That’s not the entire reason that it might cheer you up,” he started, but paused. “Well, I’m not sure. It’s not something we’ve really brought up before.”

“What is it?” you asked, very curious.

“I’ll be filming in Atlanta soon,” he continued.

“And you want to…” you trailed off.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

“I didn’t know if you’d ever want to see me outside The White Room,” you admitted.

He was obviously surprised. “Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?”

“I guess The White Room is kind of like having an online friend, only more. Sometimes that’s all you really want, not to bring it into the in person world?” You paused for a moment. “Not that it’s all I want. I do want to see you somewhere...less white and more furnished. Maybe with some doors and windows.”

He chuckled.

“We’ll have to wait until my birthday, though, so no one calls the police to report me as a runaway.” You sighed.

“I should still be in Atlanta then. We’ll celebrate your birthday together,” he promised.

Even if everything else in Georgia sucked, you at least had one thing to look forward to.


	5. Chapter 5

Georgia was everything you expected it to be -- varying degrees of miserable. 

Your classmates already had their cliques from the past 3 years, and you were an outsider, the only new student in the senior class. They were friendly enough, but no one seemed interested in actually being your friend.

Your mother took away your phone after she enrolled you in the boarding school to keep you away from Tom, since sending you to Georgia apparently wasn’t enough. The only ways you had to get in touch with your friends back home were a landline in your room, and the computers in the computer labs on campus that blocked access to social media.

You busied yourself with doing well in your classes and going to bed early enough to visit The White Room every night. It was your only solace. You weren’t sure what you would have done without it, without Tom.

Tom had to be up at 3:30am most mornings for filming, so you adjusted your sleep schedule accordingly. At least no one was there to care when you slept.

Slow days finally turned into weeks that dragged on forever. Your birthday crept closer, and you secretly counted down the days.

You had already worked out a plan with Tom to meet up -- he booked a hotel near where he was staying. You were taking a couple of taxis and a bus to get there, everything written down in a small notepad so you couldn’t forget any of the details.

The night before your birthday arrived, you paced nervously around The White Room.

“I’ve never done anything this sneaky before,” you admitted.

“You’ve always been a goody two shoes,” he teased, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you.

“What if I get caught leaving?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Tell them to fuck off. You’re not a prisoner there.”

“I guess the worst case scenario is that they expel me.”

“And you hate it there anyway,” he pointed out.

“I do,” you agreed. “The White Room is the only place I’ve been happy since I moved to Georgia.”

“You make me happy, too, darling.” He smiled at you. “Come here. Your pacing is making me nervous, too.”

You sat down next to him on the bed and put your head on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Mostly excited. I might be a tad nervous, too.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“What if how things are in The White Room don’t translate to the rest of the world?” he eventually asked.

“You’ll always be my best friend,” you reassured him, wrapping your arm around him to give him a side hug. “Doesn’t matter where we are.”

He leaned into your touch. You could tell that there was something he wasn’t saying, but you didn’t press.

“There is one thing actually,” he started.

It was interrupted when you suddenly woke up.

“Dammit,” you groaned and glanced over at the alarm clock. 3:30am. His alarm had apparently gone off.

You’d have to wait until you met in person to see what he was going to say and try to keep your mind off of it until then. You didn’t need to spend all day creating worst case scenarios in your head. You probably would anyway.

You showered the night before, since you had a shared bathroom and didn’t want to wake up anyone else who might wonder why you were showering before 4am.

Moving slowly so you made as little noise as possible, you got dressed and ready before you called for the taxi in a low voice. You put the little notepad with all the information you’d need to get to the hotel in your purse, checking and double checking it was there.

You took a deep breath as you slung your overnight bag over your shoulder and quietly left the dorm. Like Tom said, no one could stop you. The worst they could do is ask you not to come back.

You were unbelievably relieved that nothing happened as you exited the campus and walked down to the cross street where you said you’d be waiting for the taxi.

You calmed down significantly when the taxi eventually pulled up, and you got inside. Step one was done.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“The Greyhound station,” you replied.

The driver fortunately didn’t want to make small talk.

It was still well before dawn when you reached the bus station.

You walked inside to find no other passengers were there so early. The click of your shoes against the tile filled the silence as you approached the ticket booth.

“One ticket to Atlanta,” you told the attendant.

“Roundtrip or one way?” she asked.

You paused. That wasn’t something you’d thought about. “One way,” you decided.

It would give you more flexibility, depending on how things went in Atlanta.

You paid for your ticket and sat down at the right terminal. The bus wouldn’t be there for a couple more hours, so you settled down to read a book for a while.

It was hard to focus on reading when your mind kept drifting back to where you’d be in about 12 hours, wondering what Tom had wanted to say to you back in The White Room. You reread the same few pages several times before you gave up.

There was a television mounted to the wall on a 24 hour news station. You tried to distract yourself with that for a while, but it didn’t work either.

You stared at the clock on the wall as it ticked by the seconds that brought you closer to Atlanta, closer to Tom.

It was going to be a very, very long day.


	6. Chapter 6

You arrived at the hotel two bus transfers and a taxi ride later, about half an hour early. Your long day of waiting was almost over.

The hotel was nicer than you expected. It had a lobby pond with two swans. You sat on a bench where you could watch the swans swimming around while you waited eagerly.

Half an hour came and went while the swans swam around aimlessly. You reassured yourself that he was probably just running late. Atlanta was a busy city. Just to be sure, you checked your notepad to be absolutely certain you were in the right hotel. You were.

After a full hour, you started having doubts. Maybe what he wanted to tell you was that he was having second thoughts about meeting you in the waking world.

After two hours, you wondered if he was even real at all. Maybe you needed to stop hiding The White Room and talk to a psychiatrist about it. Who in their right mind sneaks out in the middle of the night to run away to meet someone they’ve only seen in their dreams?

Tears dripped down your face as you stared down at your hands.

“Are you okay, miss?”

You glanced up to see a concerned hotel staff member.

“Yeah, I’m waiting for someone. He’s probably just running late.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be at the front desk.”

“Thanks.”

She walked away.

You weren’t sure how long you should continue waiting before you gave up. Your watch ticked the seconds by, and the sun had set outside long ago. Where would you even go? You hadn’t factored that into your plan at all. It had all been riding on Tom actually being real and showing up. Shit.

You picked at the skin around your fingernails and fidgeted, feeling like a lovesick idiot. Happy 18th birthday to you.

Someone sat down next to you on the bench, and you looked up.

It was Tom. The White Room was real. Oh my god.

“I’m so sorry I left you waiting all this time, darling,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” you sniffled.

He felt more real, more solid in the waking world. You buried your face in his shoulder to get the rest of your tears out while he rubbed your back.

“You’re real,” you mumbled. “I thought it was all in my head.”

“It’s not. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

You pulled your head back and saw makeup smudges on his white shirt. “I messed up your shirt.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you ready to head up to the room now?” he asked.

You nodded.

He helped you to your feet, and you both picked up your bags.

You reached out to grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked to the elevator. It was probably overstepping boundaries, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You desperately needed the physical connection after the past few hours.

He didn’t seem to mind, occasionally squeezing your hand as you headed up to the room. He used his free hand to unlock the door with the keycard and open it.

The room was actually a very nice suite with a seating area with a couch and two chairs and a television, and a king size bed on the other side. You immediately noticed that it was a single bed and wondered the reason behind the choice -- whether it was the familiarity of the single bed in The White Room, or if he was hoping to share it with you in other ways.

He squeezed your hand one final time and untangled your fingers from around his.

There was a mirror on the wall, and you saw the tracks your tears had make in your makeup. “I look like shit,” you commented. “Not exactly how I wanted to meet you.”

“You’re fine,” he said. “I’ll always think you’re pretty.”

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you.” You paused. “We should talk, but after I take a shower. I need to wash my face, and the air conditioner on the second bus stopped working.”

“Is everything alright?” he asked, concern crossing his face.

“Oh! Not in the bad ‘we should talk’ way. I promise it’s nothing bad,” you responded. 

At least you hoped he didn’t take your feelings as something bad. He technically could, but the worst case scenario was probably that he’d be flattered, but not interested. Hopefully. Things might be different now that you were actually together in person.

For the umpteenth time over the course of the past day, you wondered what the fuck you were even doing. This whole thing was insane.

You dug through your bag for your hygiene kit and nightie and went into the bathroom. It had a freestanding tub with a separate walk-in shower that was large enough for at least a few people. You’d never seen a shower that big before.

You kept your shower as brief as possible, but still shaved for the second time in less than 24 hours, allowing yourself to be a little optimistic about how things would go. He did let you hold his hand. That was something.

Your sleepwear choice for the night was a short pink and black chemise that was mid-thigh length, with matching panties. In addition to your trip, it was your birthday present to yourself. You bought it with the sole intent of using it to entice Tom.

You combed through your damp hair and decided to let it air dry.

After double checking yourself in the mirror, you returned to the suite to find Tom watching the television in the sitting area.

“Hey,” he started before looking over at you, and then stopped after he saw you, obviously surprised.

“Hey.” You hoped you hadn’t gone too far with the nightie.

He’d already changed into his what he usually slept in -- some track pants and a clean t-shirt.

You sat down on the couch next to him, thigh brushing against the soft material of his pants. “We should talk now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“God, I don’t know where to start,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I guess I’ll start with the rest of the reason I’m stuck in Georgia now.”

“I figured there was more to it than your cousin, but I didn’t want to press,” he admitted.

“You know how people sometimes, uh, touch themselves?” you started, awkwardly.

He chuckled. “I do know that, yes.”

“I may have done that, and my mom came home early and caught me.”

“That’s an overreaction,” he commented.

“Well, that wasn’t completely it.” You gulped and quickly blurted out, “I might have been moaning your name, and she thought you were going to get me pregnant.”

You weren’t sure what reaction you expected, but him doubling over with laughter wasn’t it.

“Holy fucking shit,” he said, between fits of laughter. After he finally calmed down, he said, “I promise I will do my best not to get you pregnant.”

“I’m pretty sure no one can get pregnant in The White Room.”

“But we’re not in The White Room,” he pointed out.

“We’re not,” you agreed. “We’re also not doing anything that would get me pregnant.”

Silence stretched between you, before he finally broke it. “Would you like to be?”

“I didn’t think you…” you trailed off, heart pounding in your chest.

“That was actually what I wanted to talk about last night, before we were interrupted. Thought it might be easier there than here.”

“You’re the reason I’ve never dated anyone,” you confessed.

“I wondered.” His hand moved to rest on your bare thigh, warm against your skin. “You’re the reason my girlfriend broke up with me.”

“Did you tell her about The White Room?”

“No, but she could tell somebody else was on my mind. When I wouldn’t talk about it, she ended things with me.” He paused. “Honestly, it’s always been you for me.”

His thumb started to trace patterns into your skin absentmindedly. You could feel your panties getting damp between your legs.

“It’s always been you for me, too,” you agreed. “I was jealous I wasn’t your first kiss all those years ago.”

“But I’ll be yours,” he said. “Does that bother you?”

“No. You can wow me with all your practice,” you teased.

His hand slid up to the hem of your chemise. You couldn’t help but squirm a bit.

He smirked. “I’ll do my best. I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright.”

“Please,” you found yourself begging.


	7. Chapter 7

Tom slowly closed the gap between your faces, lips almost but not quite touching yours.

You wondered if he was giving you ample chance to back out. That was definitely not something you were going to do. You’d been dreaming of this moment for years.

Instead of waiting for him, you reached around to grab the back of his head and press your lips together.

He made an adorable little surprised noise against your mouth. You smiled into the kiss.

The kiss was a bit rougher than you initially planned, but you savored the moment anyway, the way your lips tingled and heart raced in your chest at the simple contact.

You tugged his lower lip between your teeth and nipped it lightly. His lips parted, and you took the opportunity to push your tongue into his mouth and brush it against his. He tasted like coffee.

While you explored his mouth thoroughly with your tongue, you took his face between your hands, so the kiss wouldn’t be broken, and moved to straddle his lap.

As you shifted to get comfortable, the large bulge of his erection pressed against your panties. It was probably too fast, too soon, but you wanted his dick, and you wanted it now.

He moaned into your mouth as you started grinding into him, your panties damp on your skin. You adjusted your hips so you were rubbing your clit against his hardness. It was heavenly.

He began thrusting his hips in tandem with your motions, hands moving down to grab your ass and pull you against him harder.

The pleasure of it was staggering, putting every experience you had touching yourself to shame. Your birthday was definitely looking way, way up. Best birthday ever.

When you hit your climax, you broke the kiss, your head tipping back to expose your neck. His lips moved to your neck, wetly mouthing your skin, then nipping and sucking at your pulse point.

“Oh my god, Tom. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He thrust his hips up against you and pulled you down even harder as you rode out your high, toes curling and fingers digging into his biceps. 

After what felt like forever and simultaneously not long enough, you came down. You grew overly sensitive and dropped your head down onto his shoulder. “Okay, you can stop.”

“That was really fucking hot,” he said, a bit out of breath.

“It was,” you agreed. “Give me a minute, and I want to return the favor.”

“I’ll need more than a minute. You, uh, made me cum in my pants,” he admitted, obviously a little embarrassed.

You chuckled, secretly proud of yourself for having that much of an effect on him. “Was it good for you?”

“Fuck yes. Not exactly how I fantasized about what I’d do with you the first time after we met, but still amazing.” 

“How did you fantasize about it?” you asked, curious.

“Something slower and sweeter. I wanted to take care of you and make it as special as I could, since it’s your first everything.”

“We can do that, too. This isn’t the last time, or at least I hope it isn’t.” You were pretty sure you hadn’t ever been this happy before, and you desperately didn’t want that to end.

“It’s not,” he reassured you, “and this isn’t the only time we’ll meet if you don’t want it to be.”

“I don’t,” you replied immediately, absolutely certain. “I’d rather not think about life after the next two days, though.”

“You won’t have to go through it alone. We’ll figure something out together,” he promised.

You yawned, relaxed from your orgasm, and the long day finally caught up with you.

He yawned, too, and glanced down at his watch. “It’s late. Maybe we should head to bed.”

You climbed off of his lap and used the arm of the couch to steady your still unstable legs.

“Do you want to change or…” you trailed off awkwardly.

“We can just get undressed, if you want. It’s up to you.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” You pulled the chemise over your head and wiggled out of your uncomfortably wet panties.

He gave you a slow and obvious once over, tongue running over his lips subconsciously. “You’re gorgeous, darling.”

“Thanks,” you responded shyly, lightly blushing.

He tugged his shirt over his head and kicked off his pants and boxers, apparently less nervous about being naked than you were.

The time he put in at the gym was obvious in his muscled physique. You let your eyes move down his chest, his defined abs, and then settled on the parts of him you’d never seen before, not even in The White Room.

He was half-hard again, and bigger than you expected, considering his stature.

You felt yourself grow wetter, and your mouth watered, over the thought of all of the things you could do with him now. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to get your mouth on him or feel him buried deep inside you first.

“You’re gorgeous, too,” you eventually told him.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

You padded over to the bed and got under the covers.

He followed, pulling you against him and wrapping an arm around you.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep,” you admitted quietly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You paused before finally saying, “you’re making me horny again.”

He chuckled. “I can help you with that, if you like.”

You definitely did like that idea. “What do you have in mind?”

He trailed his hand down between your legs. “I could finger you.” 

His mouth moved to your neck, and he ran his tongue up to your earlobe, and whispered, “or I could eat you out.”

“I want you to, uh, use your hand, and talk to me at the same time,” you said, still a little self-conscious about this new facet of your relationship with Tom.

“Like dirty talk?” he clarified.

“Yes,” you replied, more eagerly than you intended to.

“I can do that. Just lie back and relax. I’ve got you, darling.”

He nudged your thighs apart and slipped a finger between your folds.

“Fuck, you’re soaked for me, love. No wonder you couldn’t sleep.”

His finger slid up to your clit and rubbed it slowly.

You moaned and squirmed a bit, already over halfway there from that little bit of contact.

“Those pretty sounds you’re making have my dick rock hard already.”

His thumb took over for his finger on your clit, and he easily pressed his finger inside you to the knuckle.

“God, you’re wet for me. I don’t know how I’m going to keep from climbing on top of you right now and fucking you into the mattress. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

As he slowly fingered you, you couldn’t help but move your hips against his hand, encouraging him to give you more.

“My dick is going to fill you up so good, darling, just wait and see. You can’t even imagine how amazing it’s going to feel when I’m finally fucking that tight cunt of yours until you cum on just my cock. You’re going to love it. The entire floor will hear you screaming my name.”

You weren’t sure what you expected when you asked for dirty talk, but this was better than you thought it could be, especially in his delicious accent.

“Please, more,” you begged.

A second finger joined the first and curled to find your g-spot while he thrust them in and out a bit rougher and faster, thumb still working your clit.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Don’t stop.”

“I don’t plan on it. I can feel you getting close for me. Are you going to let me feel you cum on my fingers now?”

You did just that, tightening around his fingers as your intense climax coursed through you. It left you out of breath and lightheaded. When your body eventually relaxed, he withdrew his fingers and pulled his hand away.

“How was that, love?” he asked.

“Wow. Just...wow,” you responded, still in a post-orgasmic haze.

He chuckled. “I’m glad it was good for you. Do you think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah.” You rolled over to lie your head on his chest. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” He wrapped his arm around you and held you against him.

You huffed out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure the pleasure was mine this time, but next time…” you trailed off.

“Next time,” he agreed, then yawned. “See you in The White Room?”

You nodded against his chest, already drifting off.


	8. Chapter 8

You found yourself back in the White Room with Tom, both of you still nude. That hadn’t stopped being strange yet. Strange, but definitely not unwelcome. He was gorgeous, and you loved just looking at him in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before.

He got on the bed and patted the spot next to him. You sat down beside him, your bare thigh touching his, and grabbed his hand to hold in yours.

“You look surprised,” he commented, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“I thought meeting you in person might have broken the White Room, like the entire purpose was to bring us together, and it would just...stop after it fulfilled that,” you told him.

“Apparently not.” He shrugged. “It will be strange to wake up next to you, though, instead of by myself.”

“I always hated waking up alone after spending the night with you here, especially after I started boarding school.” You really didn’t want to go back to the life you now unfortunately led.

“We still have two whole days, and after that, we’ll figure something out,” he promised.

“What else is there to do, other than go back there and face the fact that I left campus and skipped a couple days worth of classes without permission?” 

You weren’t prepared for the meeting you were going to have with the dean and probably your parents, but you doubted you ever would be. Spending time with Tom was still worth it, would still be worth a lot worse than that.

“You could come back to London with me,” he offered.

The suggestion shocked you. Meeting in a hotel for a couple days was one thing, and really meeting in person one day had probably been inevitable as you’d both grown older, but he wanted to bring you back home with him?

“I don’t even have a passport,” you eventually said.

“I’ll wait with you while you get one. I won’t be done filming for another few weeks.” He squeezed your hand.

“I’m not saying that the thought of running away with you isn’t at all appealing, but like, how would you explain coming home with some random American girl? You don’t even have your own place yet.”

“I’ve already been looking for a place, though. I could just make it more of a priority to find one.” 

“What about getting a visa to stay with you? I haven’t looked into it, but I don’t think they just hand them out to everyone who requests one.”

“Maybe you could finish school in London and get a student visa for the time being,” he suggested.

“So you’ve apparently thought about this?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I just hate how miserable you are, love. I hadn’t seen you genuinely happy before yesterday in months. It makes my heart hurt that you’re in such a bad place right now.”

You couldn’t deny that as much as you wished you could. It was 100% the truth. Seeing him had been the only thing that you’d looked forward to in a long time. Now that it was finally happening, what was next? You couldn’t answer that.

“God help me, I’m actually considering this,” you confessed, chewing your lower lip as you thought more about it.

“Good.” Tom did nothing to hide how pleased he was by that fact.

“I honestly thought you’d be fucking me in here tonight for every moment we had together, not having me start making life-changing plans.”

He rubbed his thumb over your fingers. “We have plenty of time. I think we’re both more comfortable talking here than back in the hotel room, at least for now.”

“Yeah, it is easier to talk to you here,” you agreed. “So, we’ve established that you’re a bad influence and I’m going to do something abso-fucking-lutely insane, now what?”

He chuckled. “The passport is the top priority for now. I might have already looked into it, and you can get it expedited.”

“What about my parents?” you asked.

“You already know how I feel about that. Fuck ‘em. They sent you off to that bloody hell hole of a boarding school and even took away your fucking phone because they didn’t want you to talk to me again,” he ranted, “and why? Because your cousin couldn’t use a goddamn rubber like a reasonable human being.”

“I miss the life I would’ve had back in my hometown, my friends and all the stuff I was looking forward to for senior year, but I haven’t missed them yet,” you admitted, looking down at the floor. 

“I don’t blame you one bit. What they did to you was shitty.” He lifted your chin to look into your eyes. “I can promise you that you’ve always got me, though, even if the White Room disappears forever after we wake up. You won’t have to do any of this alone.”

“Thank you.” You felt tears start to slide down your cheeks. “I’m scared.”

“I know, darling. It’s alright.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wiped away your tears with his thumb. “Let me hold you for a while.”

You lay down on the bed with Tom, his arms wrapping around you. You buried your face in his chest and allowed yourself to cry it out, embarrassed that you were quickly becoming a snotty mess against his bare skin.

“Shhh,” he soothed, rubbing your back gently. “Everything will be alright.”

You pulled yourself against him tighter. Something twitched against your leg, and you glanced up to see.

“Shit, I swear I’m not getting off on you crying. I would never. You’re just naked, and touching me, and gorgeous, and it has a mind of its own,” he said quickly.

It wasn’t even that funny, really, but you started laughing and couldn’t stop, your tears turning into tears of laughter. Every time you began to calm down, the laughter bubbled up again.

Eventually, you managed to stop, calmer for a few moments.

Then, want washed over you unexpectedly. The only thing you were sure of was that you needed to be closer to Tom in that moment, maybe even closer than you could possibly be. You weren’t sure. You wouldn’t be until you tried, and you needed to try.

You kissed him suddenly, a little desperately, his mouth slack against yours in surprise. He didn’t stop you when you straddled him, rubbing your already wet core against his erection.

He broke the kiss, panting a bit. “Love, you might want-”

You shook your head and pressed your lips against his again, licking into his mouth.

He still didn’t stop you when you positioned him against your entrance and sank down, groaning into the kiss at the painful stretch. It took a few tries to bury him inside you to the hilt. You didn’t move for a while, just kept kissing him as you adjusted to his size. It still stung when you finally moved to rock against him, a few tears dripping down your cheeks.

He broke the kiss, looking simultaneously very aroused and very concerned.

“What’s this about, darling?” he asked.

“I need this,” you told him. “Needed to be closer to you.”

“Well, I don’t think you can get any closer than this. I’m literally inside of you right now. But we can stop if you want to. You’re crying again, and I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you insisted, the sting already starting to transform into a feeling of fullness as you moved more.

He remained still underneath you, letting you take what you needed. “What do you want? Do you want me to take care of you?”

“Yeah,” you said, realizing that was exactly what you wanted.

“I’ll take such good care of you,” he promised. “Do you want to stay like this, or do you want me to be on top?”

“I don’t know. You can decide,” you eventually said.

He gently rolled you over without pulling out. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

That was easier to answer. “Yes.”

His hand slid between your bodies, and he found your clit with a fingertip. He circled it slowly as he carefully thrust into you. “Does that feel good?”

“Mhmm.” You wrapped your legs around his, enjoying the additional contact that made you feel closer to him.

He rubbed your clit a little faster, and an orgasm soon washed over you like a rolling tide. It wasn’t as intense and powerful as others you’d had, but the pleasure lasted much longer. You could feel your inner walls pulsing around him as you came.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, and you felt him spill inside you as his thrusts slowed down until he stilled completely.

“Thank you,” you said, still a bit breathless.

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked.

“Taking care of me,” you responded.

“Believe me when I say it was no hardship.” He smiled down at you.

“I have a question,” you started.

“Go ahead.”

“You know how stuff goes into the White Room, like what you wear when you fall asleep,” you said.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Does stuff go back out?” you asked.

“What do you-” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh. We’ll grab you the morning-after pill just in case.”

“I should probably go to a clinic soon and find a better long-term solution, since we can’t bring anything in the White Room with us.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed before changing the subject. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah. I’m still a little scared, but I don’t usually do crazy things so…” you trailed off.

“But I’m a bad influence,” he said playfully.

“You are,” you teased, “but like you said, I won’t be doing this alone.”

He nodded. “You won’t.”

“There’s something else I’m wondering,” you admitted.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Am I still a virgin, since we did this in the White Room, but not while we’re awake?”

“I guess it’s teeeeechnically a sex dream?” he responded.

“Good. I don’t regret this, not at all, but a tear-free do-over would be nice,” you told him.

“I’ll try not to disappoint you to the point of tears. I can’t make any promises, though,” he teased.

You chuckled.


	9. Chapter 9

You woke up disoriented. You were in a strange room and bed, and most of all, you weren’t alone. You’d always woken up alone, not pleasantly warm and curled around another person. It all clicked back into place after a few moments of confusion.

“Good morning, love,” Tom mumbled, stretching against you.

“Good morning.” You smiled. “Waking up with you is nice.”

“It is nice,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around you and sleepily kissing you. “Would you mind if I did something a little weird?”

“Be my guest,” you replied, curious what qualified as ‘a little weird.’

He shoved the covers down to the foot of the bed and nudged your legs apart. His fingers slipped between your folds.

You moaned softly at the contact. This wasn’t weird, but maybe the weird part hadn’t happened yet. You wondered what you’d agreed to.

A finger dipped into your entrance, swirling around, sending a wave of pleasure through your core.

You were eager for more. Instead, he withdrew his hand, examining his fingers and leaving you sexually frustrated. 

“We’re good,” he said. “You’re really wet, but that’s all you and none of me. It’d probably still be a good idea to go to a clinic to get something more effective than condoms alone anyway, though, if we plan on having sex regularly.”

“Is having sex regularly something you wanted?” you asked, a bit hung up on the ‘if.’

He gestured at his erection. “I think this is a pretty good gauge of what I want.”

You were relieved that he was on the same page. “I definitely want that, too, preferably as soon as possible. Is sex different when you’re awake and not in the White Room?”

He paused for a moment. “Honestly? All I’ve got to base that on is a few times of rushed and awkward fumbling while trying to be as quiet as possible to avoid getting caught by her family or mine. I’m only a bit more experienced than you are with this. The rest is online guides I read before we met in person about how I can make it good for you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness at how sweet that was. “I want to make it good for you, too.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty of guides out there for advanced blowjob techniques or ways to give a guy ‘mind-blowing’ orgasms, but all my dick really needs to be happy is you. I mean you made me cum in my trousers last night without even trying to.”

You lightly blushed at the pleasant memory.

“But before we start fooling around and wind up spending all day together in bed, we should start the passport process and get you to a clinic for birth control.”

“Getting the passport probably won’t be too painful. I brought my folder of important documents with me, in case I decided not to go back to the boarding school. Never going back was about as far as I thought ahead, though,” you admitted. “Other than the documents and some clothes I brought with me, there was nothing there I’d miss.”

The look in his eyes grew sad for a long moment before he spoke again. “The documents should make it much easier to get your passport. We’ll head over to the passport agency first and then find a clinic that accepts walk-ins.”

“What about the rest of the day?” you asked.

“I’ll take you out for a proper date first. Then, we’ll come back here, and I’ll spend the rest of the evening doing unspeakable things to you,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

You wondered what he considered a ‘proper date,’ and wondered even more what ‘unspeakable things’ he had in store for you. You considered asking, but there was an appeal to the mystery, too, the inevitable anticipation that would burn low in your belly with undertones of arousal.

He climbed out of bed, stretching again as he stood up. You followed him. 

“I’m going to take a shower. I’d invite you to join me, but...” he trailed off.

“I’ll take a raincheck on that,” you told him, trying not to think too much about all the things you could do to each other under the warm spray. 

You were already aroused enough. If he caught you touching yourself after he got out of the shower, it would probably derail the rest of your plans for the day.

“Oh! I got you a birthday present that I didn’t get around to giving you yesterday.” He dug through his duffel bag and pulled out a small box with a birthday cake patterned wrapping paper on it. He handed it to you.

You carefully unwrapped and opened it, surprised to find a black smartphone inside. “Wow, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Consider it partially selfish. I wanted to be able to call you and text you. We could’ve avoided you spending god knows how long crying in the hotel lobby last night if I’d been able to get a hold of you. Anyway, it’s already charged, and I added myself to your contacts.”

“Thank you so much.” You kissed him briefly and turned on the phone.

“Have fun,” he called over his shoulder as he headed into the bathroom.

There were several social media apps already installed, waiting for your login info. He’d also installed the Uber app, which was much better than dealing with a notepad with taxi service numbers on it.

You logged in on your social media accounts and sent off some quick messages to the friends you’d been missing desperately for the past few months. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to anyone before your phone had been taken away. You’d spent a lot of time wondering what your parents told your friends when you disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Tom walked back into the room with a towel slung lowly around his hips, skin and hair still a bit damp. It was a good look on him.

“You’ve got to stop looking at me like that, darling, or we’re never going to leave this room,” he teased.

You put your new phone down on the nightstand and padded into the bathroom to take your own shower. You considered having an orgasm to take the edge off, but the idea of letting the anticipation build was more appealing.

You showered and shaved quickly, but spent a little extra time making yourself look good because passports required photos.

“You look quite pretty today,” Tom commented. “It’s still sort of strange seeing you in normal clothes instead of your pajamas.”

“You too,” you agreed as you put what you needed into your purse and grabbed your folder of documents. “I have to keep reminding myself that you’re not going to just disappear suddenly now. I’m ready whenever you are.”

While you walked through the hotel, he reached over and took your hand in his, squeezing it gently. The public display of affection made your heart flutter in your chest.


	10. Chapter 10

Your morning with Tom was productive. 

Unsurprisingly, his company was something you definitely enjoyed outside of the White Room. He was very tactile, and you couldn’t get enough of all the little touches he frequently gave you. It was a much appreciated reminder that he was actually here with you, that he was real, that you weren’t going to wake up alone and miserable at any moment.

The wait at the passport office was long, but the first step of running away with Tom was done.

You could pick up your passport in a week, since you currently had no mailing address. The word ‘homeless’ had been tossed around while you were there. It wasn’t something you could think about at length without freaking out. You technically did have two physical ‘homes’ with mailing addresses, but they weren’t ‘home’ to you any longer in any capacity. You decided that you had no intention of returning to either.

The White Room had gradually become the closest thing you had to a home months ago, without you even realizing it at the time. You spent weeks on end existing for the next time you could go to sleep. That wasn’t a life you wanted to keep living.

In the waking world, Tom was the only thing that felt at all like home. You were still scared and overwhelmed, but he made you feel like everything was going to be just fine, given some transition time. 

His promise that you wouldn’t be alone through any of this was comforting and reassuring beyond what you could put into words. It didn’t completely stop you from freaking out at the massive changes, but it did make it manageable.

When you headed to the clinic afterward, you knew you wanted a long-term solution for birth control that wouldn’t need to be refilled every month, regardless of your current situation. 

The ‘homelessness’ kept going through your head. The thought of being homeless and pregnant was so much worse. You knew without a doubt that Tom wasn’t the sort of person who would abandon you if you did end up pregnant, but what if something happened to him?

After discussing it at length with the nurse, you settled on the birth control implant.

The insertion itself made you very nervous. You’d never liked needles, and this involved a needle and an insertion tool. Ick.

Tom stayed by your side during the process. He held your free hand and talked to you the entire time, thumb stroking soothingly over the back of your hand as he told you about a comedy film he’d seen recently that you hadn’t yet. His words were hard to focus on when you were hyper aware of the sharp sting when the local anesthetic was injected, but you watched his face as he talked to you instead of glancing over at what the doctor was doing to your arm.

You loved the crinkles around Tom’s eyes and the way his eyes lit up with mirth when he laughed. It made your heart flutter. That happened a lot around him in the waking world. Everything was so much more vibrant outside the confines of the White Room. The difference was shocking.

For as long as you’d had romantic feelings, you’d been undeniably in love with Tom inside the White Room. In the waking world, it was brand new all over again. This time it was so much better, though, because you weren’t just silently pining. He wanted you, too, maybe as much as you wanted him. That thought still felt a bit foreign in your mind after you’d spent those same years going through him having crushes and girlfriends, repeatedly telling yourself that you were nothing more than a close friend to him.

You’d already entrusted him with your heart, handing it over without question or doubt. But in a matter of several short hours, you were going to share your body with him, too. Not just that, but in the waking world this time, in full blown vivid technicolor instead of the muted tones of the White Room. Holy shit.

“Okay, I’m done,” the doctor said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Just be sure to use a backup method like condoms for the next 7 days, and then you’re good to go for 5 years. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t think so. Thank you,” you told him.

Tom helped you to your feet and held your hand again as you walked toward the clinic’s entrance. “Do you feel up to our date right now, or would you rather take some painkillers and wait and see how your arm feels after the numbness wears off?”

“What did you plan on doing for our date?” you asked.

“I originally wanted to take you to play miniature golf, but that might be out of the question if your arm is sore. I’m open to ideas if you have any. We could always just go get something to eat.” He shrugged.

You reached the car and got in, appreciating the privacy it provided.

“I’m not sure if I could eat right now. I’m really nervous about later,” you admitted.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you want to wait, I’m totally cool with that,” he responded, sincerely.

“It’s not that. Do things in the White Room feel less...real and intense to you?” you asked.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how much until we met here,” he replied.

“What happened last night in the White Room was really intense for me. I can’t even imagine how it would have been if we were awake.”

“I might not have much experience, but I do know it’s not usually like that,” he reassured you. “This time, I’m going to take care of you. I’d planned on something very slow and sweet and gentle for tonight. I want to make you feel so good.”

You’d envisioned something similar when you fantasized about it, something probably completely unrealistic, like a first time love scene out of a chick flick. “Is that how you like it?”

“I haven’t done it that way before, but it’s you, so I know I’ll like it. I’ve always thought about making love to you that way the first time,” he told you, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

His phrasing took you aback. He thought of sex with you as ‘making love?’ 

“Is everything alright?” he asked, looking over at you with obvious concern.

“You love me?” you eventually responded.

“No, I thought I’d move someone to London with me who I think I might like, maybe just a bit. Of course I love you, darling.” He squeezed your hand again.

His proclamation made your heart thud in your chest. You hadn’t expected to hear those words for a much longer time, if ever. The fact that the depth your feelings wasn’t at all one-sided was very hard to wrap your head around. It probably still would be for a while.

“I love you, too,” you told him, interlacing your fingers with his for a moment. It was a relief to finally say what had been bubbling up inside you for so long.

He smiled at you, looking every bit as enamored with you as you were with him. It put butterflies in your stomach.

“Would it be okay if we took a raincheck on the date and headed back to the hotel instead?” you asked.

“Yeah, we can do that. Did you want to rest for a bit first?” He pulled out of the parking space and started driving in that direction. 

“Well, the bed has something to do with what I want,” you said, trailing a finger up his thigh to make your intentions clear.

If you saw him grip the steering wheel a bit tighter and start to push the speed limit, well, you wouldn’t say anything.


	11. Chapter 11

While you walked back up to the hotel room together with Tom, hand in hand, you couldn’t stop exchanging nervous glances.

You noticed he was trembling slightly as he used the keycard to open the door.

After you got inside the room and put your purse down, you turned to look at him. “You’re nervous, too?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s funny. I wasn’t nearly this nervous my first time.”

“What’s making you more nervous this time?” you asked, curious.

“You’ve been silently waiting for this, for me, for years now. Hell, you risked everything just to come here to see me. I want to make sure this is really good for you, as good as you deserve, but I’m afraid I’m going to fuck it up.” He paused for a moment. “I keep thinking back on last night in the White Room, how I shouldn’t have let it go that far, but god, you felt fucking amazing, and I wanted you so bad. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t regret what happened last night. Not even a little bit,” you promised. “This time, it’s going to be good for me no matter what, because it is you. I don’t expect it to be perfect. It’s the first time, not the last time or the only time.”

“Yeah, that’s true. This is the first time of many,” he said, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

You broke the kiss. “Do you want to go over to the bed now?”

“Yeah, just let me grab something first,” he replied.

You watched him dig a box of condoms and a bottle of lubricant out of his duffel bag and put them on the nightstand.

He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bed.

You stood with him at the side of the bed, holding each other’s hands and looking at each other expectantly.

“I know it’s silly, but I always imagined this would be like a scene out of a movie. They make it look so easy,” you commented.

“I wanted to greet you at the door with a bouquet of red roses, then have a romantic candlelit dinner, and eventually end up in bed that night together, take things nice and slow,” he told you.

“That sounds nice, but this is perfect, too. We’re finally together. You’re real. This is real.” You squeezed his hands tight.

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss you. When his lips met yours again, you felt your heart rate quicken. His hands dropped yours, and moved to tug you tightly against him.

You found yourself fumbling to unbutton his shirt, wanting nothing more than to touch his bare skin again.

He helped you get his shirt off and broke the kiss to tug his undershirt off as well.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you told him, running your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, down to the waistband of his pants.

You popped the button and slowly pulled the zipper down.

His hand moved down to cover yours. “Are you sure, love?”

You nodded. “I know you said you wanted to take care of me, but I’ve spent years wanting to get my hands on your dick. Let me?”

He chuckled and stepped out of his shoes before he kicked off his pants and boxers. “How do you want me?”

“Let’s get on the bed,” you decided. “Wait, do you want to undress me first, or do you want me to undress myself?”

“When I thought about it, I wasn’t supposed to end up naked first, but I still would like to undress you,” he responded.

“Okay,” you agreed.

He untucked your blouse from your skirt first, pulling it over your head, very careful around your arm where the implant had been inserted.

Your bra was next. He fumbled a bit with the clasp, his inexperience obvious, but managed to get it off and drop it to the floor with your top.

You toed off your shoes before he unzipped your skirt and slowly pushed it down your legs.

All that was left was your satin panties. He brushed his fingers against the soft fabric first, moving between your parted thighs for a moment.

“So wet for me,” he marveled as he pulled them down your thighs, until they dropped to your feet. “I want to get my mouth on you first, if that’s alright. I’ve been waiting to do that since yesterday.”

“Yeah, I want that, too. Please,” you added.

You climbed on the bed and lay with your head on the pillows, legs spread in preparation for him.

He got down between your thighs and put your legs over his shoulders.

“I honestly haven’t done this before, so I’m sorry if I’m no good at it,” he warned you.

“Not like I have anything to compare it to,” you pointed out.

He chuckled for a moment and pressed a gentle kiss to your mons before he moved down to lick a long stripe between your folds.

“Oh, wow,” you moaned.

It felt a bit strange, wet, and soft, and textured, instead of the familiarity of your own fingers, and then his last night. It was definitely good, though.

He found your clit and lapped at it, glancing up at your face to gauge your reaction.

That was better, but when he carefully sucked on it, probably gentler than he had to be, was the best. 

Your moans grew louder, urging him to keep going. When he flicked his tongue against your clit a few times, you rolled your hips against his face, chasing your orgasm.

Your toes curled, and the burst of pleasure was almost surprising, different from the climaxes you’d had before by yourself, and more recently with him.

He stopped once you grew too sensitive and pushed him away with your hand, pulling back and wiping his face off with his hand.

“How was that?” he asked.

“It was very good. Thank you,” you said. “Can I return the favor?”

“Not yet. I’m too close right now, and I really want to get inside you, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you agreed. “I can wait until round two.”

He crawled up the bed, reaching over you to grab the box of condoms from the nightstand. He was obviously nervous and excited as he tried to open them neatly at first, but ended up just tearing the box open and quickly pulling one from the strip.

He tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom down his length, biting back a moan as he touched himself.

“I’m sorry if this doesn’t last long. I don’t think it will,” he admitted.

“It’s not like this is the only time,” you reassured him.

He climbed between your thighs and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you responded.

“Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop.”

“I will,” you promised.

He pressed forward slower than you expected him to, as desperate as he seemed to be.

The stretch was more intense than it had been in the White Room, making you involuntarily hiss, causing him to immediately stop.

“No, keep going,” you urged him.

You didn’t know it was possible, but he moved forward even slower.

The discomfort wasn’t nearly as strong as your desire to feel him buried inside you. You eventually tilted your hips and thrust yourself up against him, finally taking him to the hilt.

“God,” you groaned. “You’re big.”

“Not that big,” he teased.

“Well, big enough.” You paused for several long moments until you adjusted to his size. “Okay, you can move.”

His thrusts were a little faster than he had been going, his eyes shut tightly as he was obviously trying not to finish too fast. You moved your hips against him. 

“I want to cum again. Can you?” you trailed off.

He knew what you wanted and snaked a hand between your bodies, fingertip finding your clit, already more sensitive than normal from your previous orgasm.

He rubbed small circles on and around the nub, moving down briefly to collect some of your wetness to make the motion smoother.

Your orgasm came gradually, inner walls tightening around him with your waves of pleasure. It was almost too much. Your fingers involuntarily dug into his back and legs pulled him against you tighter.

He groaned, thrusts rougher and more erratic as he spilled into the condom.

You both breathed heavily as your climaxes subsided, little aftershocks shooting through you.

“That was better than the White Room,” you eventually said.

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “I haven’t cum that hard in a long time.”

“I don’t think I ever have,” you admitted. “Thank you. I’m glad we came together. It was a perfect.”

“Me too. I’m really glad it was good for you. It was good for me, too.” He paused. “I’m really curious how it’ll be in a week when we don’t have to use condoms. I’ve never tried it that way before, and I want to share that with you.”

“I’m curious, too. When I was fantasizing, I always imagined it without, with you filling me up with your cum,” you told him.

“God, don’t say things like that. You’re making it harder to wait.” He grinned down at you as he carefully pulled out. “I’m gonna go take care of this, and then I want to hold you for a bit.”

You watched him walk into the bathroom and heard the rustle of the trash bag as he disposed of the condom. The sink turned on, and after a minute turned back off.

He returned with a damp washcloth and crawled between your legs, gently wiping you clean where you were still wet and a bit sticky.

“You bled a bit,” he commented, his concern apparent.

“That’s normal,” you reassured him. “I’d only had fingers in me before. You’re significantly bigger than fingers.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “I still feel kind of bad, though.”

“I’m fine, not even sore, really.” You took the washcloth from him, deliberately not looking at it, and placed it on the nightstand. “Come up here.”

He finished making his way to the top of the bed, and you wrapped yourself around him, lying your head on his chest and breathing in his comforting scent.

You yawned, and it was contagious.

“Want to take a little nap before round two?” you asked him.

“Sounds good to me.”

You separated for a moment to get underneath the covers together.

“See you soon,” you said as you rested your head on his chest again.

Maybe you could finally get your mouth on him in the White Room, before you did in the waking world.

His steady breathing and the soft thud of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

You found yourself in the White Room again with Tom and lay down on the bed, gesturing him to join you. It was still really strange, but definitely not unwelcome, to be naked with him. You loved being wrapped up in his arms like you were in the waking world, in the place you’d spent so much time longing for just this.

It wasn’t worry free, though. There was still so much that had to be addressed, and it was still easier to talk in the comfort of the White Room.

“I thought of something that I’m not sure how to deal with,” you told him quietly, biting your lip.

“What’s that, love?” he asked, pulling you tighter against him.

“What if my parents or the boarding school call the police to report me as missing? I’m pretty sure they will, if they haven’t already done it. I don’t want to waste the police’s time when I’m not actually missing, but I also don’t want to talk to my parents again to tell them I left willingly.” You sighed.

“Call them after we wake up and put them on speaker phone. I have a few choice words I’d like to say to them,” he said, his jaw clenching and sounding every bit as pissed off as you were at the situation. Maybe even more.

“What if they think you kidnapped me?” you asked, worry bubbling up in your chest.

“Tell them that you’re a legal adult now, here with me because you want to be, and they can just fuck the hell off.”

“You’re so brave,” you commented. “I wish I were.”

“Not so much brave as fucking pissed they treated you the way they did. You deserve so much better, the entire world in fact, and I plan to give that to you.” He tilted your head up and kissed you gently.

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “You’re so sweet and make me happier than I can put into words.”

“You make me happy, too, darling.” He kissed you again. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, more than anything. I’m glad we finally met in the waking world. This has been the best couple of days of my life. It’ll be harder when we’re apart while you’re filming and stuff later on, but we still have the White Room, and I can count down the days until we’re together again.”

“I’ve got an entire month and a half off after things wrap up here. Plenty of time to get you settled in with me back home and sort out things with the immigration office and get you enrolled in school for the next term.”

“It still seems kind of crazy, running away to London with you,” you confessed. “I want to, though. I’ve spent my whole life making ‘safe’ decisions, worrying more about my head than my heart. Maybe it’s time to be a little reckless for once. I think I’m going to try giving my heart more say for now, even though it makes me a little nervous.”

“As long as it brings you closer to me,” he told you, kissing you again.

The kiss turned from chaste to heated quickly.

He went willingly when you pushed him over onto his back and straddled him, rubbing yourself slickly against him for several long moments. That wasn’t what you were after, though, as amazing as it felt.

You kissed down his jawline to his neck, nipping, licking, and sucking on the skin hard enough to leave marks as you traveled onto his collarbones and chest. Your attention turned lower as you climbed down his body, until you were faced with his erection and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry if this sucks,” you told him, glancing up at him. He was looking down at you with adoration.

“I think there’s supposed to be sucking involved, darling,” he responded, with a smirk.

You giggled and licked a long stripe up his length, tasting the slight tang yourself on him, then took him in your mouth and sucked on the head tentatively. His precum was bitter and slightly unpleasant on your tongue, but it was worth the breathy pleasured groans he was making.

He was still as you moved to take more of him in your mouth, until you softly gagged, and yeah, that wasn’t the most fun thing you’d ever done. 

You looked up at his face through your lashes to see if he liked it. He seemed to, so you did it again a few times.

When he realized what was going on, he reached down and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “No, don’t do that, love. You can use your hand on what doesn’t fit in your mouth. That’s just as good.”

You nodded and wrapped your hand around the base to focus mostly on the head with your tongue and lips, occasionally sucking on him.

“Use your hand to stroke it, too, at the same time,” he suggested.

You started pumping your hand over his length while you worked the tip with your mouth.

“Oh fuck, yes,” he moaned, head thudding against the pillow where it had been raised to watch you before.

It didn’t take long for him to tell you, “I’m about to cum.”

You didn’t stop, just moved a bit faster and sucked on him harder.

It was enough to send him over the edge, spilling in spurts on your tongue, and you quickly swallowed it down. Not the best thing you’d ever tasted.

He was looking down at you. “You didn’t have to-”

“No, I wanted to,” you interrupted, “and I plan on doing this again in the waking world.”

He chuckled. “Well, if you insist, I’m not going to stop you.”

You smiled and crawled back up the bed to press a kiss to his lips. “I wonder how it’s going to be different. Everything we’ve tried so far here hasn’t felt quite the same when we’re awake.”

“Do you want another basis for comparison?” he asked.

“Depends.” You ran a finger teasingly down his arm and watched him shiver at the contact. “What did you have in mind?”

“I want to eat you again, here this time,” he told you.

He wetly mouthed his way down to your breasts, swirling his tongue around and sucking on your nipples before nipping them gently.

You moaned and squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some friction.

“I’ve got you,” he reassured you as he pressed kisses down your stomach, until he reached your mons and spread your legs so he could get between them.

“Please don’t tease,” you begged, draping your legs over his shoulders and rolling your hips toward his face.

His tongue found your clit, and he pushed one, then two fingers inside you. He curled them to find your g-spot while pumping them in and out.

You realized the random patterns his tongue was moving in weren’t so random. They were letters, and you huffed out a laugh that he was spelling out his name.

“What, darling?” he pulled back to ask, fingers still moving within you.

“You’re writing your name,” you replied breathlessly.

His fingers slowed. “Do you like it?”

You rocked your hips against his fingers, trying to get them to speed back up. “Yeah, don’t stop, please keep going. I’m getting close.”

He resumed licking your clit and moving his fingers faster.

When he sucked on your clit, you moaned louder. “Yeah, keep doing that.”

His tongue flicked your clit several times and brought you over the edge into a slightly muted, but still amazing, climax.

“God, Tom, yes!” Your fingers tangled in his messy curls while your hips bucked against his face.

When it became too much, you gently pushed his head away. He leaned back and wiped his face on his arm.

You reached out for him, and he crawled up into your arms.

“How was it?” he eventually asked.

You were still a bit breathless when you answered. “Not as intense as the waking world, but still really fucking good. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” 

“I might have read a few dozen guides online and asked some questions on a forum,” he admitted. “That’s where I learned the name thing.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I liked it. You can write your name with your tongue anywhere on my body.”

He pressed a light kiss to your lips. “I might just take you up on that.”

You nuzzled his chest. “Do you want to cuddle until we wake up?”

He ran his fingers through your hair. “Sounds perfect, love.”


End file.
